


The Selection

by trulisthetic



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: AU, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dystopian Future, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Japril, Kiera Cass, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, The Selection, Underage Kissing, alternative universe, jackson and april, prince AU, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulisthetic/pseuds/trulisthetic
Summary: [AU, Multi] For thirty-five girls, the Selection is the chance of a lifetime. The opportunity to escape the life laid out for them since birth. To live in a palace and compete for the heart of the gorgeous Prince Jackson. But for April Kepner, being Selected is a nightmare.
Relationships: Jackson Avery/April Kepner, Japril - Relationship
Comments: 38
Kudos: 34
Collections: Japril





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT! This work is based on "The Selection Series" by Kiera Cass. It is set in a dystopian future. I don't have a beta reader, so I apologize in advance for the mistakes you might find. All criticism is welcome, just don't be rude. I will keep updating as long as there are people reviewing.
> 
> This is a slow-burn fic. The first few chapters are not that exciting, and it will take these kids a while to put two and two together. But stick with our babies and be patient as they figure this out. It will be worth it.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Ever heard of the phrase, "all I could see was red"?

It's quite a vivid image, a very poetic way of expressing anger. It's especially used by writers, I suppose, but I'm sure you've heard or read it somewhere, everyone that has ever laid their eyes on a book probably has. In other words, anyone that's not an Eight. Maybe even a Seven.

Point is, I had heard that phrase before. And I had believed that I could picture it just fine, how fury could cloud up someone's mind in such a degree they'd see red. Honestly, I'd thought I had seen red myself, and more than once.

I only now realized what a huge, ignorant fool I'd been for believing that. Only now that I saw red for real.

I never thought a color could be scary, I used to love each one of them. And God, did I love red. I mean my notebook was read for a reason, I wouldn't have picked it if it weren't. And besides, blood had never bothered me, you know? I lived on a farm, I'd unfortunately had to see a lot of blood in my life. A lot of red.

But never this much. Never like this. Fiery, bold, flaming. _Terrifying_.

My palms were dipped in it, my clothes dripping. I could feel its sickening warmth on my skin, and I would vomit if I could control my body at all.

The room was almost quiet now. You'd think I'd prefer it over the screams and cries. It could mean that everyone else had managed to escape. Or, of course, that they were dead. That was the most likely option.

And yet, I didn't want to leave this room, I didn't want to escape. I never wanted to leave the small table I was hiding under, but that had nothing to do with fear of facing what was happening around it. It wasn't that what terrified me. No, what terrified me wasn't even the blood.

It was the amount of it. The force with which it ran out the fresh wound like an angry river. The speed in which the sticky puddle spread on the marble floor.

And the pain was piercing. But more urgent was the terror.

Suddenly strong arms pulled me out, pulled me away. And I fought them, I struggled, I kicked and bit and tried to scream but my mouth was muffled, my airway blocked. I was dragged away, out of the room of red.

I didn't know where he was taking me. And then I didn't care anymore. When I was thrown with force into the tiny dark room, when I was locked inside and left alone in the deafening silence, I didn't care.

I felt like I was only partly there. Like when you're in a dream and look down and you can't see your own feet. Only the piercing pain in my chest, that was what kept me from believing that this was nothing but a horrid nightmare.

And still, all I could see was red. All could think was red. I hated the damned color. And not five minutes after he'd saved my life, I came to hate him even more.

I stood there in the closed, dark space, the blood drying off on the tips of my fingers.


	2. Chapter 2

I had been hiding in my room all morning. Stubbornly, one might say. And yes, perhaps at my seventeen years I was too old for tantrums of that sort, but I had no better way of coping with the situation I was currently in. The letter had arrived this morning, and my mom had been the first one to open it, of course. Since then she had been acting like all of our problems had magically been solved. Not very mature of her, either.

Obviously, we weren't ones to complain. Along with all other farmers we belonged to the fifth caste, and that wasn't too bad on an eight-scaled range. Not close to the top, but not too close to the bottom either. Three steps from the dirt, with every literal use of the word. We owned a modest home and even our own little farm. There's almost always enough food on the table in summer, especially now that Kimmy moved out as well to live with her husband. But winter was closing now. That meant snow and storms and cold. And we lived on our crops.

So yeah. I understood we were in a hard position. I got it, I really did. But we would make it through this year, just like we always did. And asking of me what she was asking was just irrational, unnecessary and, in any case, pointless. I couldn't understand why she couldn't just let it go.

There was a knock at the door right then. I didn't bother answer, I simply just groaned. The door slid open, and through it popped a flash of red hair, a curlier copy of my own. My little sister's cheeks were flushed, her eyes filled with excitement.

"You heard." I concluded.

She nodded, grinning. I groaned again.

She entered the room, closing the door behind her, and sat on the empty spot on the bed next to me. She didn't speak immediately, which I greatly appreciated. Only after a few minutes did she sigh and shake her head. "I don't get it. Why are you not excited? I'd kill to be in your shoes right now."

"I'd kill for that too, believe me." I mumbled. Of course, she wouldn't understand, how could she? When I was eleven myself, I could think of nothing else but my pet duck and my bumblebee thighs. Princes and palaces and fairytales... How perfect would they all have sounded back then.

Alice gave me a weird look. "Was that you being cynical? Okay, seriously. What's happening?"

I huffed.

Well… fine, maybe I was being a little bit dramatic at that point. A little bit. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Truth be told, despite our age difference, Alice and I were very similar people. I could fool myself all I wanted, but she knew as well as I did that deep down I was a still sucker for all that sappy stuff. A hopeless romantic, call it what you will. All that didn't matter now, however. I had more than enough good reasons to stay exactly where I was.

"In any case, it's just an application." Alice shrugged when I didn't respond. "The dork you are, they're never going to pick you anyway."

I elbowed her on the ribs and she let out a cry of complaint.

"Hey! I'm just trying to help."

"Well, don't." I said, although I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. The little beast sure had her way of lightening the mood.

Not that she was wrong. The chances of me getting picked up were truly very close to zero. But as long as there was a possibility, I was not going to risk it.

With a sigh, I pulled my heavy body off the bed and made my way to the kitchen. With both Libby and Kimmy off to live with their husbands, I had just become the eldest child in the house, and thus I had inherited the responsibility of cooking. It was still so new to me, and so strange. I wasn't sure if I liked it yet. I only knew I enjoyed the extra quietness.

Mom passed through me twice as I was preparing the chicken, yet she didn't speak a word. Only every time that I raised my gaze from the task, she would shoot me a glare that had the hairs of my neck rising. Still, I knew that it was unfair of her to blame me for not wanting the same things she did.

After more than an hour of waiting, she finally burst out as I expected.

"Would it kill you to just fill out the form?"

I left the stack of plates I had been carrying to the table. I took them one by one and placed them on the wooden surface. Truth was- it _might_ kill me, I thought with a dose of dark humour that even surprised my own self. But it was accurate. With the rebels – the underground colonies that hated Grey, our large and comparatively young country- constantly attacking the palace in the most violent ways. That seemed to be their main focus lately, but it wasn't the only one; Twos had their cars vandalized and houses burned to the ground, and there was even a prison break last month – but with only a teenage girl who had managed to get herself pregnant and a Seven who fathered five kids being released, I couldn't help but think they were in the right that time. Anyhow, filling out the form might actually result in me getting involved in such an attack, and who knew if I'd make it out alive.

There, another reason to add to my 'Stay exactly where I am' list.

"If not for anything, do it for your father." My mom's voice brought me back to present. "You know he has been through a lot the last few years. Do you have no compassion?"

And there came the psychological war card. I would have rolled my eyes if she didn't actually have a point. I really _did_ want to help dad, and Alice and mom, even if I pretty much hated her right now for putting me through this. I knew she had a lot to carry, and that was why she was being manipulative with me. And I also knew that with the season changing, there was really no guarantee of employment in the near future. All of our hands were pretty tied.

I felt my lovely list lose some of its strength.

I frowned. I shouldn't even have to make a list. This was my choice, wasn't it? I shouldn't have to sacrifice my dreams, no matter how much my family meant to me. Besides, I had given them so much already. With my older sisters away, being the eldest, I had taken on many responsibilities at the farm as well. Now I was responsible for pretty much every animal-related chore, including feeding, cleaning, milking and gathering the eggs, while the others dealt with the crops. Don't get me wrong- I adored animals. But waking up at 5 am every day to shovel poop wasn't one of the things I adored.

However, with the letter here none of that mattered. In my mom's eyes, I was already queen.

Dad was soon back from the field and we instantly took our seats on the table. Had I been smart, I would have hidden the damned piece of paper before he'd returned. But I was not smart.

"To the house of Kepner," mom sang out once she mid-meal pulled the letter out of her clothes, where she had tucked it.

I buried my face in my hands. I knew dad was going to find out anyway, but if she did it like this he would be on her side. "Mom!" I groaned.

"Ssssh!" Alice shushed me, suddenly excited. She was bouncing up and down on the seat while dad listened intensely. I was, of course, blushing.

"The recent census has confirmed that a single woman between the ages of sixteen and twenty currently resides in your home. We would like to make you aware of an upcoming opportunity to honor the great nation of Grey. Our beloved prince, Jackson Avery, is coming of age this month. As he ventures into this new part of his life, he hopes to move forward with a partner, to marry a true Daughter of Grey."

I was way beyond the eye-rolling stage at that point. Alice –through her unnerving enthusiasm- eyed me carefully, as if she couldn't recognize me. It was unlike me, honestly, to not swoon over this perfectly set, fairytale romance. But I wasn't looking for one of those anymore.

"If your eligible daughter, sister, or charge is interested in possibly becoming the bride of Prince Jackson and the adored princess of Grey," mom continued, "please fill out the enclosed form and return it to your local Province Services Office. One woman from each province will be drawn at random to meet the prince.

"Participants will be housed at the lovely Grey Palace in New Seattle for the duration of their stay. The families of each participant will be _generously compensated_ " –she drew out the words for effect- "for their service to the royal family."

 _Service_. Lovely.

In truth, however, it was exactly that. A service to the country. We could all pretend that the purpose of this was for the prince to find love, but we all knew that was not the case. This was the way it always happened with the sons. Holding a Selection for the prince to marry a woman of the people to give him heirs was the royals' way to gain the public's fondness and keep the country united – keep up the morale of our sometimes volatile nation. On the other hand, they had our young relations with the other countries to solidify, and that was where the princesses came in. The poor girls born to the royal family were sold off to marriage for that purpose exactly. I understood why it was done; we needed allies. That didn't mean I had to pretend to be sad that not one princess had been produced in three generations. I didn't think I could handle seeing such a thing.

But, fortunately for the nation and unfortunately for me, King Robert and Queen Catherine's only son had just turned twenty-one, and there came the next Selection –right when I was of age too. I supposed I could only blame my luck. Just the idea of being entered into a contest for the whole country to watch as this stuck-up little wimp picked the most gorgeous and shallow one of the bunch to be the silent, pretty face that stood beside him on TV… it was enough to make me scream. Could anything be more humiliating?

Besides, I'd been in the homes of enough Twos and Threes to be sure I never wanted to live among them, let alone be a One. Except for the times when we were hungry, I was quite content to be a Five. Mom was the caste climber, not me.

"And of course he would love April! She's so beautiful," Mom swooned.

Alice snorted.

"Alice," mom scolded.

I pointed at my sister. "No, see? This is exactly what I'm talking about. Even if I did apply, they would never pick me anyway. I don't know why we are still talking about this."

"Oh, April, you must know you are a very lovely girl. Do you know how many boys appear outside our door for you that I have to shoo away? My daughters are too pretty to marry Fives."

I was about to argue when her words actually settled. "Wait…" I blinked rapidly. Boys… as in boys interested to… ask _me_ out? She had got to be kidding me. Even without the braces and the glasses and the annoying acme, I was still me. She couldn't be serious about this. "Since when has this been happening?"

"A while."

I turned to look at my dad. It was the first time he had spoken since we'd sat down, and his tone concerned me. It wasn't just the tiresome of a long day in the fields, also visible in the black shadows under his eyes. His voice had a hint of sorrow to it, and he was staring decidedly at his cup. I was trying to figure out what upset him so much. Boys coming by? Mom and me arguing again? The idea of me not entering the contest?

His eyes came up for the briefest of moments, and I suddenly understood. He didn't want to ask this of me. He wouldn't want me to go. But he couldn't deny the benefits if I managed to make it in, even for a day.

"Oh, for the love of God, April!" mom hissed. "We have to be the only parents in Grey to have to persuade their daughter into this. Think of the opportunity! You could be queen one day!"

"Mom. Even if I wanted to be queen, which I thoroughly don't, there are thousands of other girls in the province entering this thing. Thousands. And if I somehow was drawn, there would still be thirty-four other girls there, no doubt much better at seduction than I could ever pretend to be."

Alice pursed her lips. "I mean, she has a point… She doesn't really stand a chance."

" _Alice_. She has as good a chance as anyone else." Mom scolded again.

We ate the rest of the meal in silence. Alice asked for seconds but there weren't any. When she and mom got up, I started clearing the table while Dad sat there sipping his tea. He had dirt in his hair again, a smattering of brown that almost made me smile. He stood, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

"Dad," I called hesitantly.

He turned to me, a faint smile on his lips. "Yes, duckie?"

He was the only person who I didn't mind calling me that. The only one who didn't mean it as a reference to the ugly duckling.

"I'm sorry for…" I trailed off, unable to find the right words. I sighed. "I just-"

"Don't be silly, I'm not mad." He kissed me on my forehead. "I'm going back to work."

And with that, I moved to the kitchen to start cleaning. I wrapped my mostly untouched plate under a napkin and hid it in the fridge. No one else left more than crumbs.

When I was finally done, I walked outside with heavy, yet hurried steps to get to my bicycle, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. A million questions were ringing in my ears; Why did Mom have to push me so much? Wasn't she happy? Didn't she love Dad? Why wasn't this good enough for her?

I grabbed my bicycle almost with force and rode down the familiar path leading to our land. The old, large barn appeared through the endless fields of corn, and I forced my legs to pedal faster, taking my frustration out on the act.

The second I reached my destination I all but threw the bike against the wooden wall, scratching off the red paint; just one more mark to add to the thousands. I grabbed the handle of the enormous door and dragged it open with all of my strength, then stepped inside and creaked the door closed behind me.

The second the smell of livestock filled my lungs, I felt my muscles instantly relax. It had become some sort of reflex at this point, that the moment I found myself here alone I would instantly be embraced by a wave of calmness, the exact thing I was currently seeking. My eyelids fluttered closed on their own accord, but I didn't stop them. Instead, I took a moment to listen to the sound of hooves hitting the wet ground, wings flattering, and little snouts scattering the hay. And when I finally opened them again, I could almost pretend everything was back to normal. Everything was okay.

I marched proudly, passing the hen coop and the duck and goose enclosures, the sheep and goats and even cows. I had already finished with all my duties; now came the time of day that I always looked forward to. However, truth be told, I had exciting plans for later tonight as well.

As I was walking towards my destination, I made a quick stop to greet the pigs. My favorite girl from the previous litter, Suzie, had just turned six months and I was so excited to see her through her first mating season. Just the potential of piglets had my heart fluttering with joy. Most of the pigs we bred -just like most other animals- sooner or later had to be sent to the butchers, and that was definitely the part of farming I absolutely loathed. It was a necessity, of course. The crops weren't nearly enough for us to feed on and make a living out of, selling meat was a huge part of our income, and we were actually pretty well known when it came to it. The name Kepner was linked to a fair and honest price for quality pork.

I slightly petted the space between Suzie's ears and then the spot under her snout like I knew she liked and earned a long, happy oink. Sometimes, once in a while, I got called to choose some animals that we would keep for breeding. And I got to bond with those few, and treat them as I wished I could treat each one. I blew Suzie a kiss, as those thoughts made my heart heavy. The pigs would have been my favorites, was interacting with them not always bittersweet.

And then finally, I made my way to the opposite side of the barn, heading straight towards my boy. His large head was lifted over his stall's door, and the moment he saw me approaching he whined eagerly.

I felt a large grin form on my face at once. "Sparkle." I breathed the name out like a prayer and all but run to his side, raising my hand to pet his snout. Growing up I had always wanted a pony, but obviously we couldn't afford companion pets as well. When my dad brought Sparkle home -just a tiny brown foal- I had thought he was a pony and only when he grew way passed the size of one did I realize he was actually a horse. He served as our main means of transport ever since he was old enough to be ridden, but to me he was way more than that. Sparkle had been my best friend since I was a kid, and I couldn't possibly imagine growing up without him.

Sparkle blew a wisp of air on my face right then, and I placed a little kiss on the white mark on his forehead. "Hi, sweet boy," I said and rose on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck.

Overwhelmed as I was, I _barely_ managed to refrain from complaining about having the worst day, despising my country and loathing the system to my horse. What escaped my mouth instead was a little whine, and the frown on my face was quickly replaced with a goofy grin when he whined back at me in response. But when I pulled back to look at him, his large brown eyes seemed almost sad, his pupils dilated. I knew him enough to sense his restlessness, recognize his need to get out of his stall, out of his personal jail. And my first instinct was to free him.

I would never understand how my mother's wasn't.

I quickly grabbed the harness from the hook on the wall and straddled him, and soon the only sound I could hear was the trotting of his hooves as they hit the turfy ground. The familiar thrill of speed cursed through my veins as we rode through the golden fields.

It was dark when I finally dropped him off and made my way home. I took a quick shower and dried my hair, putting on my pajamas. I made a stop to wish everyone goodnight, before finally heading to my bedroom.

As I laid on my lumpy mattress, my mind finally clear, I tried to wrap my head around the Selection. It might not seem like it currently but I was generally an open-minded person, an optimistic one. So for the sake of making an effort, I reluctantly tried to find something positive to its advantage. 'Everyone deserves a chance' was my motto, after all. Well, actually I had a lot of mottos and inspirational quotes written in my notebook but that was a story for another time. Back to the Selection… I guess it had its advantages, like how it would be nice to eat well for a while. And that was pretty much the only advantage I could find.

Well, I'd tried.

When midnight finally came, I sneaked out of bed as quietly as I could. I headed to the kitchen to pick up my leftovers and put them in a basket, and with my heart in my throat I made my way back to my room, closing the door behind me.

I had oiled the window the last time I had sneaked out, so this time it opened silently. I looked out into our little patch of backyard. There wasn't much of a moon out, so I had to let my eyes adjust before I moved. Across the lawn, the treehouse stood barely silhouetted in the night.

When we were younger, Libby used to hide all her dolls up there and hold endless tea parties for them. Kimmy and Libby never quite got along, and since Alice was a baby I was the one that always got invited. Of course I wasn't a guest or anything, I was only the maid who was responsible of mopping and preparing the 'tea'; water with leaves from the same oak the treehouse was built on. Libby used to 'drink' the odd mixture -while holding her finger up the air- by throwing it over her shoulder. This meant that I'd have to mop again, but I didn't mind. I was just happy to be invited.

I looked around. All the neighboring houses were dark. No one was watching. I crawled out of the window carefully and scurried across the lawn. When I reached the little wooden ladder, I managed to climb it with one hand, a talent I had mastered through the years. With each step I could feel my pulse fasten in anticipation.

Once finally inside the treehouse, I knew I wasn't alone. In the far corner, someone was hiding in the night. The person shifted, lighting an all but unusable candle. It wasn't much light—no one in the house would see it—but it was enough to see the grin spreading across the intruder's face. Not long after that I was seated sideways between his open legs, squeezed against him for us both to fit in the small space.

"I missed you."

At his words, I buried my head in his chest. "Me too," I mumbled. It had been more than a week since I had last seen him, and truthfully I was growing anxious without him. It had been a long, long week, and he was the only one I could fully tell everything to.

"Did you get more beautiful, or is it because of the candlelight?" he asked. As if he saw me much in the light of day anyway.

I frowned. "Not you too. If I hear that word once more today, my head will explode."

I could feel him chuckling. "Only you would scowl at a bloody compliment. But you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You can't hold it against me for saying it the only time I'm allowed to."

That brought a smile to my face. Then I sighed. "I'm sorry I'm not in a better mood. It's just that… we got this stupid notice in the post today."

"Oh, the letter." He realized. "I heard."

I pulled back a bit so that I could look at his face. His eyebrows were slightly knitted together. I noticed in the dim light that there were tiny bags under his eyes; no doubt he'd been working late all week. His black T-shirt was worn to threads in several places, just like the shabby pair of jeans he wore almost every day. If only I could sit and patch them up for him. That was my great ambition. Not to be Grey's princess. To be Matthew's.

And that was bad.

Matthew was a Six. Sixes were servants and only a step up from Sevens in that they were better educated and trained for indoor work. It was atypical for a woman to marry down. A man from a lower caste could ask for your hand, but it was rare to get a yes. And when anyone married into a different caste, they had to fill out paperwork and wait for something like ninety days before any of the other legal things you needed could be done. I'd heard more than one person say it was to give people a chance to change their minds. So us being this personal and out well past Grey's curfew … we could both get in serious trouble. Not to mention the hell I'd get from my mother.

But I loved Matthew, I had for almost two years. And he loved me. And while I was in his arms, entering the Selection was absolutely out of the question.

Which reminded me… "What do you think of the Selection?" I had been meaning to ask him that question for a while.

He snorted. "It's fine I suppose. He has to find a girl somehow, poor guy."

I giggled and punched his chest playfully. "Matthew!"

He laughed too. "I don't know." He said after a moment. "Part of me thinks it's kind of sad. Doesn't the prince date? I mean, can he seriously not get anyone? If they try to wed the princesses to other princes, why don't they do the same for him? There's got to be some royal out there good enough for him. I don't get it. So there's that. But then…" He sighed. "Part of me thinks it's a good idea. It's exciting. He's going to fall in love in front of everyone, and I like that someone gets a happily ever after and all that. Anybody could be our next queen. It's kind of hopeful. Makes me think that I could have a happily ever after, too."

I blushed and looked down at my hands, but Matthew's finger was suddenly under my chin, lifting my face for me to look at him. With a small smile, he leaned down and placed his lips on mine.

Right then, his stomach growled and had us both breaking out in laughter against each other's mouths. I pulled away, my face hot, and cleared my throat. "I brought you a snack!" I said excitedly.

Instantly, his eyes lit up – though he tried to hide it. "You did?"

"Yep!" I said, and I pulled up the basket to take out the plate of my own leftovers. It barely looked decent in my eyes, but if meals were a worry at my house, they were a disaster at Matthew's. There was never enough food in his family with his father long gone, and though he worked himself to exhaustion every day he earned very little money. Most days he didn't eat at all, choosing to pass his tiny share of food down to his six siblings and his mother, who worked incredibly hard as well.

I watched with satisfaction as he licked the spices from the chicken off his fingers and tore into the bread. I couldn't imagine when he'd eaten last.

"Did you make this?" he asked eventually once he was done. I nodded. "Apes, this is amazing."

I grinned widely. "I'm glad you liked it," I mumbled as I returned to his arms.

I hated seeing how hungry and tired he constantly was. And though sometimes I was able to help with the first, I couldn't do anything about the second one. It wasn't anything new for a Six, Seven, or Eight to just die of exhaustion. I couldn't bear that. I pressed myself even closer to his chest, trying to get the image of it out of my head.

"April?"

"Yes?" I whispered.

"Will you enter the Selection?"

"No! No, of course not. I don't want anyone to think I'd even consider marrying some stranger. I love you," I said earnestly.

His expression was pained. "You want to be a Six? Always hungry, always tired? Always worried?"

"We are smart, Matthew. We will make it somehow, I know we will."

"You know that's not how it'll be, Apes. I'd still have to support my family; I'm not the abandoning type." I squirmed a little in his arms. "And if we had kids—"

"When we have kids. And we'll just be careful about it. Who says we have to have more than two?"

"You know that's not something we can control!" I could hear the anger building in his voice.

I sighed. This had been a constant argument for us the past few months that we were trying to figure out a way to actually be together without hiding anymore. Children were a wild card. As Matthew always said, the more hands to help with work, the more little mouths to feed.

We fell quiet again, both unsure of what to say. I didn't want him to worry or be upset; I really thought we could handle it. If we just planned for everything we could, we'd make it through everything we couldn't. Maybe I was too optimistic, maybe I was just too far in love, but I really believed that anything Matthew and I wanted badly enough, we could make happen.

"I think you should do it." He said after a moment.

"Do what?"

"Enter the Selection."

I glared at him. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious, April. I think you should do it."

I huffed. "You're out of your mind!"

"Hear me out." He hesitated for a second, his eyes focused on a piece of torn fabric from his shirt that his fingers were playing with. His voice was low. "If you had a chance for something better than this, and you didn't take it because of me, I'd never forgive myself. I couldn't stand it."

I groaned. "Oh, come on. You know there are a thousand girls entering, I will never even get picked. What difference does it make?"

"Exactly." He murmured, finally looking at me. "All I want is for you to enter. I just want you to try. And if you go, then you go. And if you don't, then at least I won't have to beat myself up for holding you back."

"Holding me back from what? Matthew, _I love you_ , and him I have never even met! And from what I've seen on TV, he's just a spoiled brat."

"No one has met him, but that's the thing. Maybe you will like him."

"Stop it. I love _you_." I repeated, for the thousandth time.

"And I love you." He kissed my forehead. "And if you love me, you'll do this so I won't go crazy wondering what if."

Oh great. And now that he made it about him I didn't even stand a chance, he knew I couldn't resist making him happy with every chance I got. And I was right. There was absolutely no way I'd get chosen. So I should just go through the motions, appease everyone, and when I didn't get picked, everyone would drop it.

"Fine," I whispered. "I'll do it. But know now that I don't want to be some princess. All I want is to be yours."

There, I'd done it. I had made my decision.

I leaned back on his chest, expecting the usual relief of finality to wash over me as it always did after made a choice. Instead, the minutes ticked by. And all I got was an uncomfortable sense of heaviness, that only grew the more intense. It had my body shrinking in the darkness, becoming smaller in Matthew's arms. While silence was ringing in my ears, the last words I'd spoken echoed in my head.

_My decision._

I caught myself frowning. _Mine_. Right.

I had been so adamant about refusing to do this all along. Not even my own mother had been able to convince me, not my dad's sadness, not my family's needs. Yet here I was, finally giving in. To make him happy. And I mean, I would be willing to do anything to make him happy. It was the right thing to do.

Matthew's hand found my hair, stroking it softly. He didn't say anything. He didn't seem to notice how hard I was biting on my lip, or how I was struggling to ignore the stinging in my eyes.

I was relieved that he didn't notice. The last thing I wanted was for him to doubt my love.

Besides, it was only a stupid application. I was just being silly.

I managed to win the fight with my tears until the candle burned itself out. But when I returned to my bed alone, I found myself losing.

And the thing was, the more I cried, the less I felt like it was about the letter in the first place.


	3. Chapter 3

The large barn was full of people, all of them looking at me with large smiles on their faces. The back wall had been broken down just for the occasion, revealing the endless field that was reaching as far as the eyes could see, the sun painting the thousands of wildflowers in the most captivating colors.

The enchanting melody of Pachelbel's _Canon_ echoed in my ears as I walked, holding my father's hand. I was mostly looking down, self-conscious by all the attention. I noticed how my white gown embraced my legs with every step I took, and I was so glad that I had been able to get the exact wedding dress I had dreamed of.

Eventually, I had to look up. My eyes followed the trail of rose petals across the long aisle, climbed up the stairs step by step, glided over the arch full of flowers. Everything was so beautiful, exactly like I had always imagined it would be.

And then, finally, my eyes met his smiling ones.

Matthew was in a suit, with no holes to be patched this time, as he stood proudly next to the priest across the aisle. I blushed even deeper at the intense look he gave me, holding onto my father tightly as my knees went weak.

When I was finally at his side and my dad seated, we said our vows with our hands into each other's.

"I do," I said as I looked into his brown eyes, and the second I did hundreds of butterflies were released into the large barn, the sunrays playing with the colors of their wings.

"April," Mom crowed, jarring me from my dreams.

She turned on the lights, blinding me completely in the process, and I rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust.

_Goddamn it._

"Wake up, April, I have something to offer you."

Through my eyelids, I looked over at the alarm clock. Just past seven in the morning. So that was … five hours in bed. I was about to suck in a long breath and get up, when I realized that it was, in fact, Friday. My only free morning of farm-related duties. With a glare directed to mom, I laid back down and pulled the pillow over my head to block out the light.

"Honey, I have something serious to discuss, get up."

"No." I grumbled. "Leave."

"I'm not leaving. Now, come on."

"Mom." I groaned, my voice muffled because of the pillow blocking my mouth. "Get out, you're ruining my sleep."

"Your sleep can wait."

"No, this can wait." I argued.

" _April Kepner!_ Get up this instant!" she yelled now, losing her patience.

There was no messing with that tone. I threw the pillow to the side and sat up abruptly, clothes rumpled and hair sticking out in strange directions.

I yawned. Twice.

"What do you want?" I said eventually.

"For you to enter the Selection. I think you'd make an excellent princess."

It was way too early for this.

"Oh, for the love of…" I began saying but then I remembered what I'd promised Matthew last night; that I would at least try. But now, in the light of day, I wasn't sure if I could make myself do it.

"I'm well aware you are not interested in signing up, so I figured I'd make a deal with you to see if you would change your mind."

I gave her a side glance. "A deal?"

"Yes. I spoke to your father last night. We decided that you are old enough to take some jobs of your own, go work at other farms as well to increase the income."

That was her offer? That was supposed to be a good thing? I huffed.

"And we decided that you can keep half of whatever money you make." She added, her nose wrinkling.

I widened my eyes. "Are you serious?"

"That is, only if you agree to enter the Selection." She clarified. She was smiling now, she knew she would win me over. I'd settled on signing up anyway, but now I could earn my own money for it too.

"You do know I can only sign up, right? That doesn't by any means say that I'll get in."

Mom waved me away. "That is all I'm asking."

I couldn't hold back a grin. My own money... I covered my mouth with my hands not to squeal. "I'll go fill the form now", I chirped excitedly and jumped out of bed. Mom laughed, and I turned to look at her, a bit cautiously now. "You're serious about this, right?"

"Yes. Soon you'll be off on your own anyway and being responsible for your own money will be good practice. Just promise you won't forget us, love. We need you too."

I gave her a smile. "I won't, mom. How can I, with all this nagging?"

She laughed again and I exited the room with a new energy so unusual to current me, yet so familiar – the carefree child I had once been. I sang as I showered, and I came out refreshed, feeling like I was flying. Because money... Money meant freedom. It meant that if I handled them correctly then I could... Oh, Lord, I could marry Matthew soon and build a house with him. Just the thought had my chest filling with bubbling excitement.

I run to the closet and examined my clothes. Most were colored in earthly tones, and the most exciting thing I could find were my khaki shorts and a green top. Once I put them on and looked in the mirror I realized I actually felt pretty today. The green of my blouse did a good job highlighting my hazel eyes, while it contrasted beautifully with my light skin tone. It also made my ginger hair more lively, just like my reddened cheeks. But I figured it was mostly the enthusiasm in my eyes that shined my entire face. After a long while, I was finally feeling like my old, perky self.

Mom and dad were both seated in the kitchen, and they both seemed to need a moment to take in my appearance. Their looks didn't even bother me, though. I run straight to the letter and picked it up. Momentarily I was taken aback by the high quality of the paper itself. I had never touched something like that, it was thick and seemed hard to rip, yet it felt soft as feathers under my fingertips.

I went on to fill the blanks, wasting no time.

_**What is your name?** _

April Kepner

_**How old are you?** _

Seventeen (17)

_**What Caste are you in?** _

Fifth (5th)

_**How tall are you?** _

5′ 5,5″ (160 cm)

_**How much do you weigh?** _

119 pounds (54 kg)

_**What is your hair color?** _

Red

_**What is your eye color?** _

Hazel

_**What is your skin tone?** _

Pale

_**How many languages can you speak?** _

Three (English, French, Swahili)

I smiled as I added that last one. My Swahili was far from perfect, but a few years back we had an African family moving in the neighborhood, and I was trying very hard to be able to communicate with them, the social bird I was. It seemed like I was the only one around making an effort, though. My sisters used to tease me endlessly about it.

_**What are some special skills you possess?** _

I hesitated at that one. I could milk cows, but I doubted that was what they were asking for. I bit my lower lip and decided to settle for some things I enjoyed doing. I wrote down singing, horseback riding, star gazing – not that that was really a skill- and for the sake of it I added dog training, animal caring and gardening. I wondered if I should include my mastered ability to sneak out and jump off windows in the middle of the night.

"Do you think 'sleeping in' counts as a special skill?" I asked my dad, trying to seem troubled.

"For sure." He answered. "Also mention how you can devour an entire meal in less than five minutes." I chuckled; I did have the tendency to inhale my food.

"Oh, for Jesus's sake! Why don't you just write that you are an absolute heathen?" my mom said aspirated before marching out of the room.

I gave dad a questioning look. I mean, she was getting what she wanted after all.

He shrugged. "She just wants what is best for you."

"So do you, but you never act this way."

"Your mother and I... Well, let's just say we have different views of what's really best." He said, generalizing.

I raised an eyebrow. The next words were out before I could register them. "So you'd agree if I wanted to marry, say, a Six?"

He settled his cup on the table slowly, examining my face carefully. _Crap_ , my mind I tried my best for my expression to give nothing away. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

After a moment, there was grief in dad's eyes. "April love, I wouldn't mind if you married an eight." He said truthfully. "But I'm afraid you'll find that love can wear away under the weight of marriage. You might think you love someone now, but when he's unable to provide for you, when you watch your children starve and get whipped publicly for stealing a loaf of bread in their desperation, you may come to hate him. Love doesn't always survive under those kinds of circumstances."

Dad took my hand, meeting my gaze. "But above anything, I want you to be loved. You deserve happiness, little duckling. You deserve the world. And I wish you get married because of love, and not a number."

Truth was, I had never heard my father talk like this before. So for a second there, all I could do was look at him. When my intense gaze lingered long, we both looked away bashfully – but not before he caught the increased wetness in my eyes. "Thank you, dad." I said, a genuine smile of gratitude painted on my face.

He grinned back. "Of course. Now go get your prince." He added. I grimaced, and we both burst out laughing.

After I finished up the application, I went in search of my mom. I bumped on Alice instead, however, who was all but dragging her feet like a zombie, barely awake. She instantly noticed the letter in my hands, however, and her yawn got cut in half.

"No. Way!" she shrieked.

"God, Alice. Have mercy on my eardrums."

Her eyes were wide. "Are you really going to do it?"

I nodded, although I felt my chest clench momentarily. I shoved the feeling away before it engulfed me like last night.

"Holy crap, duckie!"

"Don't 'duckie' me, you monster."

She jumped up and down, and then literally fell on me, wrapping her hands around me so tight I couldn't breathe. "Oh my God! You're going to meet Prince Jackson! You'll be a princess! I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, for sure." I gasped and tried to break free of her embrace to take a decent breath. "Alice, let go! You're choking me!"

She instantly did, taking a step back and wrapping her arms behind her back. Still, she was full of enthusiasm. "Can you send me one of those strawberry tarts I heard they make for breakfast at the palace? I'd die to try one of them. And when you kiss him, don't slip in tongue okay? That's a no-no! Don't make any sudden movements. Oh, and can I be your flower girl? I love royal weddings!"

My jaw was hitting the floor by that point.

That was when mom appeared down the corner. "Uh... mom, we can go to the... services office as soon as you're ready." I announced while staring at my eleven-year-old sister like she had grown a horn.

Alice rolled her eyes my expression, and without an answer she headed towards the kitchen. I noticed mom watching Alice walking away while pursing her lips in an attempt to hide a smile.

_My whole family has gone nuts._

A good twenty minutes later mom and I were already outside the Province of Moline Services Office. Among with a few hundreds of other women. The entire street was packed, the line to the entrance never seemingly ending. I huffed and puffed in an award-worthy imitation of the big bad wolf, but the hours rolled by and we had barely covered a few meters. Around midday, my main focus was to cover my face so as not to turn into a lobster. Gingers and sun don't make the best combination, you see, especially at summertime.

Few times did we come across a few familiar faces, mostly neighbors and their daughters who came to get their submissions in as well. "This lottery isn't much lottery at all." I overheard Mrs. Lena –the jeweler who had brought her youngest daughter- whisper to my mother when I was supposedly not listening. "Betty the baker's husband delivered an order to one of the magistrates' houses the other day and she told me, it's all a fraud. That's why they are taking pictures and asking for all that information. Why would they care how many languages they speak if it were random?"

I realized I was frowning and quickly controlled my expression. I really had found that last part weird as I was filling the form, but I never thought much of it. And as for the picture part… I could hardly contain a shiver. I had no idea that would be needed of me, and in reality I couldn't even remember how long it had been since I had last had a photo of me taken, but to this day I had serious luck of a photogene. A thing I knew for sure, even though we didn't exactly own a camera in our place.

A quick glance around the line, and I could see that clearly the information had leaked a little; most girls were incredibly overdone. With incredible clothes. And incredible beauty. I, on the other hand, looked decent - the usual plain old me and nothing more. I hadn't known about any of this, hadn't figured I had to prepare at all. I felt my lips curve upwards. Now I really didn't stand a chance. How had I not thought of this before myself? Brilliant!

Suddenly, I realized who my mom's new chatting company was.

I walked up to them, a large smile on my face. "Hello, Mrs. Taylor!" I chirped excitedly and watched in satisfaction as the face of the latter brightened at once the second our eyes met.

"April! Oh, dear, look at you. You look marvelous!" Matthew's mother said kindly as she cupped my cheek. "I haven't seen you in so long, how have you been?"

"Great. How about you? Are you here with Kate?" I questioned.

"And Amber." She added, looking behind her shoulder. "They are over there, talking to some friends."

"Oh, right!" I realized. "Amber is sixteen. Wow." Like she had heard me call her name, Matthew's youngest sister met my gaze and waved at me. I waved back and then waved to Kate too once she noticed me as well. She was a year older than me. Both the girls were dressed as neatly as they could afford, looking very tidy. Of course, that was more than enough. All the Taylors were gorgeous, it ran in the family.

"Tell me about it. One minute they are babies in your arms, the next they are of age." Mrs. Taylor shook her head and then gave me a warm look. "You'll understand when you have your own children. They are not kidding when they say they grow in a blink. My Matthew for example. I remember him munching on his own feet, and yet now he is the one to care for us all."

I tried not to react at the mention of his name, and instead I smiled at her, moved by the kindness in her eyes. I adored this woman, always soft and caring no matter how hard her everyday life was.

"Oh, Matthew. What a sweet boy. I'm sure he will make a girl very happy one day." mom commented. She was only half into the conversation as she continued to size up the competition.

Mrs. Taylor glanced around quickly. "Between us, Karen, think he has found a girl already."

I froze. I literally felt my heart skip a beat.

"Really? Do we know her?" mom asked, almost intrigued.

"Oh, I have no idea who she is. I just noticed he has been much happier lately. He hums a lot. He sings…"

Lately? We had been seeing each other for two years, why only lately?

"Then he is definitely in love." Mom concluded.

Mrs. Taylor was beaming. "It makes me so happy to see him like this. She must be a very special girl. Lately he has been working incredibly hard, I think…" she trailed off, her eyes glowing. "I think he is saving up to get married."

A gasp escaped my lips and I was too shocked to stop it. Thankfully it could pass by as simple enthusiasm for the news.

"And I'm just so happy." Mrs. Taylor continued, as if that wasn't obvious enough already. "I don't even know her and I love her already. If she makes him this happy, then she is already my daughter."

Oh dear God, was this conversation actually happening? My chest was about to burst, so full of emotion I could hardly restraint myself from jumping on her to hug her tight as I could.

Matthew... Matthew really _was_ going to ask me to marry him.

 _Dear. GOD_.

I could even begin to wrap my mind around the fact that though his family was struggling to make amends, he was putting money on the side for me. I didn't know if I should scold him or... Or kiss the life out of him.

My mind, heart and thus organs were pretty occupied from that point and on, and I didn't even realize it when I found myself at the end of the line. Up high in a cloud of euphoria, I signed a couple of needed forms and sat at the chair to take my picture, flipping my hair to give it life.

I had got to be the most smiling girl in all of Grey.

Married… to Matthew… I recalled the dream I had just had this morning. Okay, maybe I couldn't have the huge wedding of my dreams, with the perfect dress and all those people. But I could certainly make arrangements for it to be at the barn, like I had always imagined. I would wear my mom's veil, of course. Oh, and maybe we would be able to at least have those 'Mint To Be' mints! And we could ride off to the sunset on Sparkle, and go to our new home… a home of our own. It would be tiny probably, barely one room and a bathroom, but it would be ours. And we would be happy, just the two of us.

Honestly, I didn't really come down from my state of elation until late afternoon came by, and mom, dad, Alice and I gathered around the small TV in the living room. It was Friday, you see, so the _Grey Capital Report_ was being broadcasted at eight. Not that it was obligatory to watch it, but it was the only source of news and information we had and so it was unwise to miss it. Even Eights, the homeless, would find a store where they could see the Report. And now with the Selection coming up, I doubted a single person in the entire country would miss it.

Mom was in the kitchen making us popcorn as if we were about to watch some freaking movie, while dad let the dog in for the night. Buster was a Border Collie; very helpful as a herding dog but a God awful guard dog, lucky for me. The last thing I needed was him waking up the entire neighborhood when I sneaked out to meet Matthew. Now, he walked in the house with his head down. He loved running around in the yard all day long, and when the nights came and we had to restrain him, he literally got depressed.

I sighed impatiently, wishing the stupid show would just start already to get this over with. And as if someone had heard me, the familiar intro popped up on the screen.

"It's starting! It's STARTING!" Alice came out of nowhere and dived on the couch next to me, shaking the entire piece of furniture. I glared at her and then my entire vision was blocked by the black and white fluff ball that was Buster, who had just jumped on the couch between us. Dad's steps seemed almost tired as he made his way to the living chair, his usual seat. And mom -just in time- appeared with an unusually large bowl of popcorn. We almost never allowed ourselves such luxuries. I gave her a strange look as she sat on the couch as well, next to Alice.

Alice took a handful of popcorn before speaking- with her mouth full, of course. "Do you think they'll announce the winners tonight?"

"No, love." Mom answered. She seemed to be extremely calm now that she had gotten what she wanted. "The applications are still open. It will probably be another week before we know anything."

"Aw, damn it! I can't stand the wait!"

She couldn't stand the wait? I was the one with my name in the pot.

On screen played our national anthem. And then the royal family came into view.

Standing on the podium was King Robert. His advisers, who had updates on infrastructure and some environmental concerns, were seated on his one side and the camera cut to show them. There would probably be several announcements tonight. On the King's left side, the Queen and Prince Jackson sat in their typical cluster of throne-like seats, looking elegant and important in their solemnly expensive attires.

"Oh, there's your boyfriend, duckie!" Alice announced. Mom and dad chuckled as I blushed crimson red.

I looked closely at Jackson. He was really handsome, I had to give him that. His short-shaved skull and piercing, aqua eyes gave his beauty an exotic flavor, that none of his parents held. Of course his eyes were his father's, but it was the combination of them with his mother's dark skin tone that really made them stand out. He had a short beard covering most of his strong jaw, but even that was carefully trimmed to perfection. Not one hair stood out or seemed untidy. I briefly wondered how much time this guy spent on a chair with people working on his head. And his clothes; his grey suit fit him perfectly.

But he looked way too rigid as he sat on that chair, way too uptight. Way too perfect. He looked more like a painting than a person, almost fake. I kind of felt sorry for the girl who would end up with him, what a boring life of pretense was it going to be for her.

I focused on his mother next. Queen Catherine was proudly sat on her own chair, her chin up high as her brown curls fell on her shoulders. There was something very royal about the way she... well, existed. Her appearance, her gaze, even the way she sat there right now and simply breathed, everything about her was so regal and elegant that it was incredibly hard for one to believe she wasn't actually born royalty.

"Mom?" I asked, slightly curious now. "What caste was the Queen? You know... before the King's own Selection?"

"She was a three." Mom answered, clearly satisfied that I was finally showing some interest. Poor her, it must have come as quite a shock that a royal marriage didn't interest me at all, she knew what a sucker for romance I was. I bit my lips, trying to hold back a grin.

But turning my attention back to the screen, I couldn't help but wonder… what was the Queen's life before? She was a three. So, was she a teacher? A philosopher or scientist? A doctor? She sure never had to worry about food, or power. Did she have a large family? Did her friends get jealous when she was chosen? If I had close friends, would they get jealous of me?

I shook my head. This was moronic, I was never going to get picked.

On screen, the King was speaking now. He was giving a quick update on the war with New Asia – a matter that the Minister of War was about to cover thoroughly right after. The thing about King Robert was that he somehow managed to be laid back on his throne, his every movement the epitome of relaxation and even a bit of nonchalance, without seeming disrespectful at all while speaking about such serious subjects. Like a professional who had done the job for so long that he didn't even have to think about his actions anymore. Or someone who had his every word rehearsed so many times he could speak them in his sleep. Or someone who simply had nobody to answer to. Whichever the case was, the King was brief as he gave an update on a recent raid on a rebel camp, and with a smile he gave the word to the Minister of War, before dramatically wiping his forehead as if he was glad his part was over, the weight off his shoulders. The crowd laughed along with him.

Minister Hunt went over the exact same things the King had just mentioned, but in way more detail. He was giving updates about the war with New Asia, how an attack had left our troops outnumbered, but the fresh draft next month would come to lift morale. His orange hair looked anything but dump under the bright lights, his strong jaw was clenched, the seriousness of the situation reflecting in his deep voice. The terms he used, however, were entirely unknown to me, and so it seemed like that long monologue of his was going on forever. The only person in the room that showed genuine interest had to be my dad. On screen, I noticed Jackson's eyebrows were knitted together as the Minister spoke, and I realized he looked almost angry. But other than that reaction, everyone seemed almost lethargic after a while. Even the King seemed bored –though that was not a first.

The Financial Team followed Minister Hunt's update, informed us once again about the status of the debt, the head of the Infrastructure Committee announced that in two years they were planning to start work on rebuilding highways, some of which hadn't been touched since the Fourth World War. And then finally, the Master of Events came to the podium.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Grey. As you all know, notices to participate in the Selection were recently distributed in the mail. We have received the first count of submitted applications, and I am pleased to say that thousands of the beautiful women of Grey have already placed their names in the lottery for the Selection!"

I shifted a little in my seat uncomfortably, and I noticed that at the same time Jackson mirrored my movement on-screen. I silently huffed at our shared reaction. Was he beginning to sweat as well?

"On behalf of the royal family, I would like to thank you for your enthusiasm and patriotism. With any luck, by the New Year, we will be celebrating the engagement of our beloved Prince Jackson to an enchanting, talented, and intelligent Daughter of Grey!"

A huge applaud at that. Jackson smiled but still looked highly uncomfortable.

"Of course, we will be having lots of programming dedicated to meeting the young women of the Selection, not to mention specials on their lives at the palace. We could not think of anyone more qualified to guide us through this exciting time than our very own, Mr. Richard Weber!"

There was another smattering of applause, but it came from my mom and Alice this time. I rolled my eyes, petting Buster's head – which was now placed on my lap, his eyes closed as he was fast asleep. Richard Weber was a legend. For something like thirty years he'd done running commentary on Grateful Feast parades and Christmas shows and anything they celebrated at the palace. I'd never seen an interview with members of the royal family or their closest friends and family done by anyone but him.

"Oh, April! You could meet Richard!" mom's voice was dripping honey.

"He's coming! _He is coming!_ " Alice cried in my ear, clenching her little hands in fists.

And yep, there he was. Richard Weber sauntered onto the set in his crisp blue suit. He was maybe in his late fifties, but he always looked smooth. Literally, his bald head was so smooth it was shining under the bright lights.

I chuckled at my own thoughts.

"Goooood evening Grey!" he sang, smiling at the camera. "I have to say that I am so honored to be a part of the Selection. I have been with the royal family so long that they practically feel like family to me, I have watched Prince Jackson grow into the brilliant young man he is today, and I cannot wait to see him through finding his true partner. I have to admit I… am feeling quite like a proud parent right now- no offense, Your Majesties." He addressed the latest part to the royal couple. The King simply chuckled, rubbing his strong chin. The Queen gave no reaction, still stiff on her seat.

"But before anything," Richard went on. "I have the pleasure of speaking –even shortly- with the man of the hour himself, our beloved Prince Jackson."

Jackson stood to his feet at that and walked to a set of chairs set up for him and Richard. He shook the latter's hand before sitting down, and then he straightened his tie and adjusted his suit, as if he needed to look even _more_ polished.

"Nice to see you again, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Richard. The pleasure is all mine." No surprise there. Jackson's voice was as poised as the rest of him, radiating waves of formality. I wrinkled my nose at the idea of just being in the same room with him.

"So tell me…" Richard trailed off. "In less than a month, thirty-five women will be moving into your house. How do you feel about that?"

Jackson laughed. Even his laughter was restrained! "Honestly, it is a bit nerve-racking. But I'm looking forward to it all the same."

"Have you asked your dear old dad for any advice on how he managed to get ahold of such a beautiful wife when it was his turn?"

Both Jackson and Richard looked over at the King and Queen. The King's arm was reaching for him to affectionately hold the back of her neck. She was smiling.

"Not really," Jackson answered after a while. "As you know, the situation in New Asia has been escalating quickly, and between working on the military side of things, well… I suppose we haven't had much of a chance to talk girls." He smirked.

Mom and Alice laughed, and I joined them. I mean, it was kind of funny.

"Okay, Prince Jackson, we don't have much time left, so I have one last question for you. How do you imagine your perfect girl?"

Jackson looked taken aback. I couldn't really tell, but it looked like he might be blushing.

"I don't know. Genuinely, I don't. And I suppose that it sort of the beauty of the Selection, isn't it? Not a girl who will enter will look exactly the same as another, act as another, and I am simply hoping that through the entire process I will get to know them all and discover what I am looking for." He smiled, satisfied by his answer.

"Alright, thank you, Your Highness. That was very well said. I think I am speaking for all of Grey when I wish you the very best of luck."

"Thank you, sir." Jackson said and shook Richard's hand again.

"I am afraid this is all the time we have for this evening. Thank you all for watching the Grey Capital Report, and we will see you next week."

And finally, the music played and credits rolled, and I found myself letting out a long sigh.

"Jackson and April sitting in a tree…" sang Alice with a smirk, and I shot a throw pillow right on her face. Buster began barking along as I chuckled at the thought. With how stiff and controlled Jackson seemed, I would bet kissing him would be like kissing a statue. I snorted at the imagery.

As I was laying on my bed later through the night, I couldn't help but think what was up for me this upcoming weeks or months. First, mom's disappointment when I wouldn't get chosen. The jobs to other farms I would have to get, how I'd be away from our barn more, and get to spend fewer hours out the fields with Sparkle. But that would get me money of my own, so I was not going to complain.

And then the much harder stuff… the eruption that was coming when Matthew came asking for my hand. I thought dad wouldn't get too upset. But mom wouldn't go down without a fight. She would be furious… oh God, the last thing I wanted was to face mom's fury. I felt myself wince at the thought. There was nothing I could do about that, however. I only hoped she wouldn't hate me after the shock and anger wore off.

As for right now… all I could do was wait until my next stolen moment with Matthew. For I knew that the second I met his warm gaze, the moment his long arms wrapped around me and his lips found my skin, I would instantly feel okay again. None of my problems would matter if I had Matthew.

That's what love is after all. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for making it this far. PLEASE, comment and let me know your thoughts so far!


	4. Chapter 4

I grabbed an apple and took a bite, taking my keys from the hook next to the door and running straight outside.

"Good luck!" mom shouted from the kitchen.

"Thanks!" I yelled back and shut the door.

Cycling with one arm was no challenge anymore, and I easily balanced myself while eating the rest of the apple. I found the house easily and threw the remains of the fruit in the can outside before knocking on the front door.

The woman answered in seconds.

Mrs. Anderson turned out to be very sweet. The interview was short; I supposed the only reason for its existence at all was to make sure I was no murderer. Or egg thief.

"Can you start right away?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

I could hardly contain my enthusiasm. "Of course!" I had worn my rain boots in case she asked me exactly that.

Their barn was enormous; it was three times the size of our own, stocked with way more animals than we had ever dreamed of owning. I blew out a wisp of air as I took it all in, my eyes widening.

With a brief securing of my white headscarf, I took a step in.

* * *

The second I fully climbed up the treehouse and set down the basket, I all but collapsed on the wooden floor. And soundly so. My heart skipped a beat as I listened carefully for a moment but it seemed like, once again, I hadn't been caught. Sometimes it was crazy to think I had been able to get away with sneaking out here once a week for two whole years. I guessed I was beyond reproach to my parent's eyes. Which kind of made me feel a bit guilty. A little bit.

I laid back on the wall behind me and fell on a luxurious sprawl – the room was so small that my feet touched the opposite wall. I meant to take all the goodies I had prepared for tonight out of the basket and prepare a 'romantic dinner' kind of setting... but the minutes ticked by and I couldn't bring myself to move a muscle.

I was _exhausted_.

These had been the most tiring days of my life. I had gotten two part-time jobs, one at the farm next to ours and one at another one that was a half-hour ride from home. And if I was this spent out after a single week, I had no idea how I was supposed to last in the long run. Then again, today I had earned the first money of my own – as I was paid weekly- and I had already spent them all. Talk about perfect management.

In my defense, Matthew and I had never, ever, gotten the chance to have a romantic dinner. So earlier in the evening I had offered to go out for groceries, and bought a couple of things of my own. Including a bottle of wine.

Lots of firsts today, I was feeling oddly proud.

I smiled to myself in the darkness, my hands covering my arms as I snuggled against the corner of the treehouse, making myself as comfortable as I could against the hard wood. Tired as I might have been, I trusted myself not to fall asleep – I was too excited to do so. Instead, I allowed myself to relax for a couple of minutes, my eyes roaming over the empty room.

It was dark enough for only shapes to be made out, but I was used to that. It didn't bother me. I'd spent countless hours in here, much so that operating in darkness and relying on the sense of touch came naturally to me now. Apart from that, I knew every corner of the treehouse – every creaking plank, every crack between the boards.

For example, as my gaze lingered on that small slope on the floor at my right, I knew that it was the most comfortable place to sit in – since Matthew always let me sit there back when we first got together and were almost exclusively playing chess. There wasn't much else to do; being intimate was not an option for us yet. Firstly it was against the law to have premarital sex, but the law itself hadn't stopped us before. The problem was that it was also contrary to both our beliefs. Matthew's family, just like my own, was religious. So it was upon mutual agreement that we decided we would be saving ourselves –something that was exciting at times, but pretty frustrating at others.

So during the beginning of our relationship, chess had served as a major pastime. The chess set wasn't a real one, of course. Those were incredibly expensive and very hard to come by. Instead, Matthew had made us our own little pawns as soon as we'd discovered chess was our shared favorite game. He had carved them himself out of aspen wood, his own hidden talent. Each figure was absolutely beautiful, and I kept them all hidden in a little shoe-box inside my closet, which I only took out when I was heading here to meet him. It had been a while since we had last played chess, however. I felt myself frown as I tried to remember the last time. It had to be over a year ago.

The truth was that lately we had so many things to worry about that we barely got time to enjoy being together. Between our grim-looking future and all the difficulties we would face, the ones he was already facing with his own family, and now the selection, things were a bit strained. We were going through a somewhat rough period, but that was okay. It was the first of many, and good practice for the more severe ones that were to come.

I found myself staring at the opposite corner of the room, and instantly my lips curled upwards. Gosh, this room was full of memories. Our first kiss had been right there. The first one for both of us. It had barely been a peck, and as soon as I had placed it on his lips he had abruptly pulled away.

" _Oh my God."_ He had hissed. _"I'm sorry –I didn't mean to- I didn't expect you to actually do that and the last thing I wanted was to pull away, I'm so sorry!"_

Fifteen-year-old me had found his flustered face adorable. I remembered clearly how I had then rubbed the inside of my wrist on his forehead.

" _Uh. What are you doing?"_ He'd asked, perplexed.

" _Erasing that memory. We can do better than that."_

He'd snickered. _"What? You can't just erase what happens."_

" _Sure I can. Who else will know but us?"_

I could hear my own voice ring in my ears. The memory was so vivid, I almost felt the sweetness of it linger in the air. Yet at the same time, those two kids discovering romance seemed like completely different people than the ones we were now.

I felt the warmth of those innocent days slowly fade away. I found myself sifting uncomfortably on the wooden floor.

I had never really put it into words. I wasn't going to do that now either. But the two images appeared in my mind anyway, Matthew at fifteen and him now. I blinked them away quickly, ignoring how my throat slightly tightened.

Okay. Enough slacking, he would be here at any moment.

I unclenched the fingers that had unconsciously dug in my arms, and forced myself to sit up and kneel on the floor. Making the decision to start moving was tougher than actually doing so, and I noticed that setting everything up took less effort than I had been anticipating. By the end, I found myself gazing at the final result rather satisfied.

The deep red tablecloth covered almost the entirety of the floor, and around it were set about a dozen lit candles. I had put a clean dish, glass, fork and knife on each side, and then a few containers filled with food in the middle. No leftovers this time - I'd gotten us our own, actual meal. Oh, and _dessert_.

Yeah. This was sort of a rough period for us, but we would push, and we would fight, and we would make things right again. And tonight was the start. Tonight, we were celebrating.

When I heard him climb up, my heart skipped a beat.

"Boo."

He sucked in a breath, surprised that the treehouse wasn't empty. When he saw me giggling quietly, he rolled his eyes and laughed along.

I pulled him to me, careful not to knock over any of the food containers, and kissed him. Really kissed him.

I could tell that he was surprised by the intensity of it all, but he didn't hesitate much. A little noise emerged from the back of his throat, and his hands were on my waist, on my neck, pulling me closer.

When he pulled back, he cleared the messy hair from my face. I smiled at him, biting my lips.

He raised an eyebrow. "What was that for?"

"I love you." I simply explained.

He chuckled and then smiled. "As I love you."

I sat back on my butt and gave him some space to fully climb on the treehouse –he had been half-way through the opening all this time.

"What is all this?" Matthew asked as he took it all in, tablecloth, the basket, the containers. All that food.

My grin was radiant. "Well… I have news to celebrate. I figured they deserved a nice meal to go with, as well as a bottle of wine."

I reached for the bottle from the basket and held it up, still smiling. A feeling of satisfaction washed over me at the sight of his chocolate eyes widening. "Wine…?" He trailed off, seeming shocked.

"Right? So adult. But I won't tell if you don't tell." I giggled.

"What's this about? How did you get all this stuff?"

"Made it…" I gestured towards the containers of food, still warm from the oven. "…and bought it, obviously." I pointed at the bottle in my hands again. I was enjoying his hesitation too much.

"Bought it with… what money?" he asked again, slowly.

I giggled again.

"April." He was getting impatient.

"Okay well. The news." I cleared my throat. "I never got to tell you about the sign-ups."

"Right." Still hesitation in his voice.

"It was crazy, Matthew. So many people, so many girls, all dressed up… But it was not too bad, because I had something to gain out of it."

His expression changed in an instant.

"Hey, let me finish!" I playfully hit his chest. "I had something to gain out of it, because my mom –who didn't know, obviously, that I had already promised you I would enter the Selection- bribed me to do it."

"Bribed you with…?"

"Money, duh." I chuckled again. This week had been more than just productive from my part. Multiple jobs were no joke, but they were more than worth it. Finally, Matthew could be full. I was still grinning widely as I set the wine bottle on my lap; then a small problem emerged. "Um, you don't happen to have a bottle opener on you, do you?"

He didn't as much as acknowledge my question. "You made all these?" he was taking in plate after plate.

"Yes…" His frozen expression was starting to worry me. "Hey, is everything alright?"

He took a minute. Then he frowned and swallowed hard. "No… no this… this isn't right."

"What do you mean?"

"April, I'm supposed to be providing for you, not the other way around."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't start with my mother's stupid gender roles."

"It's not that, I- I can't have you do all this for me." His voice was beginning to rise, the muscles of his throat clenching. "Don't have any idea how _humiliating_ it is for me?"

"…humiliating?" I repeated.

"It's one thing for me to eat your little leftovers, to take something you don't want, and a completely different thing to…" His voice broke, and he fought to control his expression. "To have you, _I'm_ supposed to-"

"Matthew, come on. You give me things all the time. You provide for me."

"Yeah?" He huffed, bitterly. "How? Tell me one time, just one."

His look was piercing. Hard.

I gulped, my eyes growing wet. "You give me… give me your love, and…"

He laughed. "My love. Right, what a sick joke."

"I don't understand why you're upset. Anything of mine you want you can have!" My own voice was rising now. I knew we ought to be careful not to be heard, but at that point I could hardly bring myself to care.

"I'm not some charity case, April. I am a man. I'm supposed to be a provider."

He put his hands in his hair, and I could see his breaths coming out fast. He was thinking his way through the argument, trying not to upset me too much.

But I was already upset. _I am a man?_ What was that supposed to mean? When man and wife, we would be equals. We would provide for each other, what was mine would be his and the other way around. And I _knew_ he believed that too. So where was this coming from, out of the sudden?

I was about to snap at him for even thinking like that, but that was when I noticed his expression. There was something different about his eyes. It was like his face fell into confusion one millimeter at a time. And so my anger faded quickly when I saw him there, looking so lost. Guilt washed through me instead.

"Matthew I… I never, ever meant to humiliate you. And I am incredibly sorry you see it that way, I was only trying to do something for you, to make you happy. To celebrate…"

He wouldn't look at me, though. I picked up some bread and put it in his hand. He was too hungry not to take a bite.

Encouraged a bit now, I tried to smile at him. "Mat, you have got to stop thinking that way. This is not a matter of who is providing for whom. When we are alone, we're just Matthew and April, not a six and a five."

"I _can't_ stop thinking that way, April." He insisted, and finally looked at me. "This is how I was raised. Since a baby, I was told how sixes were born to serve and nothing but. I have been taught how to be an invisible my entire life. And if you and I get together, you will have to be invisible as well. That is the very last thing I want for you. You deserve so, so much more."

"Matthew, we've talked about this. A million times so! I know things will be different, I am well aware of it and more prepared than you might think. And I don't know how to make it any clearer, I…"

I knew at that point that I had to say something big to ease him, so terrified as I was to put myself out there, I took a deep breath and put my hand on his chest, right above his heart.

"The moment you are ready to ask, I am ready to say yes." I told him, trying to keep my voice from showing how vulnerable I suddenly felt. If that meant he'd be brave, then I would endure it.

He watched me closely as color filled my cheeks. I knew he knew what I meant, so I had no idea what exactly he was looking for now. If it was doubt, he wouldn't find it anywhere. Matthew was the one thing I was sure of.

"No."

"What?"

"No." The word felt like a slap on my face.

"…Matthew?"

"I don't even know how I ever thought this was going to work out." He said and run his fingers through his hair again, as if to wash out all the thoughts he'd ever had of me.

I was speechless. Shocked.

"I won't make you like me, a six, hungry cold and scared. I can't even stand the thought. I _will not_ marry you, April. Not now, not ever."

Like the aftermath of an explosion, the silence that followed pierced through my eardrums. It was an endless moment of shock and disbelief, that ultimately led to the inevitable; realization.

I had just the time to feel every tiny piece of my heart that shattered in a single sentence.

He didn't mean that. He couldn't mean that. He had to take it back.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. His face was hard now, his jaw clenched. In a quick movement, he began crawling out of the treehouse.

And then I found my voice again. "Where… where are you going?"

"I'm leaving, I-" he swallowed, hard. His eyes briefly met mine. "I'm sorry I did this to you, April. It's over now."

"It… what are you…" I couldn't even form a sentence.

"It's over. I won't come here again, never like this."

I knew the tears were starting to drip down my cheeks, my chin, my shirt. But I couldn't feel them. I felt numb. "No. Matthew, hey, come on. Let's just talk about this, okay? You're upset, that's all. You don't mean that."

"I'm more upset than you can imagine, but not at you."

And then the sobs came. "Matt…"

"I just can't do this, Apes, I can't!" His entire face broke in a grimace of despair. I didn't expect it, I had never seen it before in all these years. It shocked me.

"Matthew, please…" I begged again. I sounded pathetic but didn't care one bit. For it all came crashing at me right then. He was actually leaving me. Matthew, _my Matthew_ , was breaking up with me. "Please, _I love you._ I love you and you love me, it can't just end like this! We have an entire lifetime in front of us, you, me and our kids and grandkids and… and…" I was crying so hard I was barely making sense anymore. "God, please don't do this, please! Stay!"

And the worst part of all this? After the break of emotion in his face, his expression switched to cold. His chocolate eyes glazed over, shutting me off their usual warmth. They refused to even meet mine.

"I'm sorry." He simply mumbled again, and his figure disappeared from my sight as he climbed down the stairs and run through the wet grass. Soon, the muffled sound of his footsteps was gone as well, leaving me alone in the silence.

And it was dreadful. Deafening.

Two years. Two years of memories, of love, of moments that left us speechless… and he thought he could just walk away from me like that? Set our past, our future, our entire lives on fire in a single moment because his freaking ego was hurt?

And he thought I would just _let him?_

I didn't anticipate my next action, so I was startled myself at the large and sudden eruption of sound as the plates, glasses and containers all came crashing down, falling off the treehouse to the ground, breaking into a million pieces. One of them cut through my skin, and soon a large drop of blood dripped from my finger, followed by another and another, until the wood under my feet was painted in shades of dark red.

Oh, red. All I could see was red. Perhaps it was because of the fire breaking on my skin.

I was _furious._

I barely registered the sound of a window opening in the distance. "What the hell is going on?!"

I held back an odd mixture of a sob and a cry of anger that was boiling in my chest, clenching my jaw. "Go back to sleep, Alice!" I hissed.

"Shut up and I might!" she cried, and her bedroom window abruptly closed.

In despair, I wrapped my injured finger with a surviving napkin, and carefully climbed down the stairs to pick up the broken pieces.

* * *

They knew there was something wrong with me. Of course they did, I was practically a zombie. From that night and on, I had felt all life drain from my body, and I had no energy to try and gain it back. My parents seemed worried, and so did Alice. I had no idea what she had heard, how much had been revealed, but she had shown no signs of knowing what had happened that night, so I hadn't pushed the matter. I hadn't really cared to.

I was lying on my back on the grass right now, next to an old, single oak tree on the top of a small hill. It was the standard riding spot where I took Sparkle, not because it was special or anything, but because even though it was close to home, it was just high enough to feel like I was somewhere else entirely. I took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to fill my lungs completely before letting it out again. I opened my eyes to stare at the cloudy sky above me. There was almost no satisfaction in the action of breathing. And not in a 'I don't need oxygen' kind of way. It was more like there was a hole inside my chest than no number of breaths and heartbeats and seconds passing by could fill. The wound was too fresh, too deep for that.

I would normally beat myself up for this, for falling apart because of a guy. But this was no random guy, this was Matthew. It was an entire life with him that I was mourning, not just a summertime fling.

A wisp of warm air caressed my face, and I realized I had closed my eyes again. Sparkle's snout was hovering right above my head, his dark eyes actually seeming worried. Could it be possible that he sensed there was something wrong with me too? At this moment, it felt like it.

Touched, I raised my hand to pet him, and he leaned his head down even closer.

It was the next, roaring thunder that had him finally pulling away, as he got startled and took a few steps back. A soundless little laugh escaped my lips.

And the sky began to cry. The raindrops fell quietly for a few seconds, then much more soundly, until eventually they came to overlap every other sound. They fell on my face, and their cold touch actually felt good. Liberating, somehow. I felt them wet my entire body, my hair my clothes, and I just let them, simply closing my eyes.

Not everything was gone, not yet. It couldn't be. I was holding onto the very last shred of hope, that once Friday came and the Capital Report broadcasted the names, everything would go back to normal again.

I had dreamed it up in my head. How they would announce one of Matthew's sisters instead of me, and mom would be disappointed, but not as much as she would have been if it were a stranger. Dad and Alice would also be excited for them; our families were close. Matthew, of course, would be thinking about me, just like I was thinking about him. And he'd be back before the program was even over, begging me to forgive him and asking me to marry him. But I wouldn't say yes to him immediately. He would have to earn it. He couldn't just randomly decide that he was not good enough for me or whatever crap he'd come up with next time, and expect me to just roll with it. I was not going to have that. It was two of us in this relationship and we were both making the decisions. _Together_. Anyway, the proposal would be a bit premature, of course, as there was nothing guaranteed for his siblings yet. But we could always stay engaged for a few more weeks or months till everything was settled.

In my head, it all worked out perfectly.

In my head, everyone was happy.

* * *

Ten minutes till the Report came on, and we were all settled on the couch again, just like the previous week. We had been awfully early, of course, sitting there for at least half an hour already, but I couldn't imagine anyone in all of Grey wanted to miss a second of this announcement.

"Oh, it feels like only yesterday that Queen Catherine was chosen! I knew it from the very beginning that she would make it. She just had it in her."

"Did you go in the lottery, mom?" Alice asked.

"No honey, I was two years too young for the cutoff. But lucky me, I got your father instead." She smiled and winked.

Wow. She must have really been in a good mood, I couldn't even remember the last time she was that affectionate towards dad. Apparently, dad couldn't either; we shared a look.

"Queen Catherine is the best queen ever," Alice announced, oblivious to our exchange. "She's so beautiful and smart, and so badass!"

"Alice." Mom slightly scolded, not nearly as irritated as she normally would have been with Alice's choice of words.

"She is. She is tough. Every time I see her on TV, I want to be just like her."

I grinned. I agreed with my sister completely on that. Queen Catherine was incredible. I worshiped that woman, and I was nowhere near ashamed of it.

"She is a good queen." Dad offered, casually crossing his legs.

And finally, it was eight o'clock. The national emblem rose on the screen along with the instrumental version of our anthem. I was rolling the edge of my shirt between my fingers when I realized that they were actually trembling. _God_ , was I ready for this to be over.

Once again, the King appeared to give a brief update on the war. The other announcements were also short, the atmosphere of enthusiasm transparent through the screen. And then finally, the Master of Events came up and introduced Richard, who walked straight over to the royal family.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," he said to the King.

"Oh, Richard, my old friend!" King Robert greeted him with a grin, as if there were no cameras filming them, not millions of people watching. "It's always good to see you."

"Looking forward to the announcement?"

"Yes, very. I was in the room yesterday as a few were drawn, all very lovely girls. My Jackson," he glanced towards his son, grinning all the way. "is a very lucky man."

"Oh, so you do know who they are already?" Richard asked, fetching for information.

"Just a few, just a few…"

"Did he happen to share any of this information with you, sir?" Richard turned to Jackson.

"No, unfortunately. I am completely in the dark here." Jackson let out a chuckle, and I could see he was trying to hide his nerves.

I realized my palms were sweating. I rolled my eyes at myself, wiping them on my pants before anyone else could notice.

"Your Majesty," Richard turned to the Queen now. "Any advice for the Selected?"

Queen Catherine smiled a crooked smile and looked at the camera. For a brief second, it actually felt like she was speaking directly to each one of us watching. To _me_.

"Honey, you'd better enjoy your last night as an average girl. Tomorrow, no matter what, your life will be different forever. A piece of old but gold advice; Be yourself. You're not going to get anywhere if you're not real, you trust me on that."

Yep. Queen Catherine was _amazing_.

"Wise words, my queen, wise words." Richard approved, and the crowd applauded. It wasn't long before it died down, however, the anxiousness evident in the air.

Richard continued at once. "Alright, everyone, we will not keep you waiting any longer. Let us now reveal the thirty-five young ladies chosen for the Selection. Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in congratulating the following Daughters of Grey!"

Instantly the screen changed to the national emblem. In the upper right-hand corner was a small box with Jackson's face – I supposed it served to show his reactions as the pictures went across the monitor.

Richard had a set of cards in his hands, ready to read out the names of the girls whose lives were about to change forever; at least according to the queen.

"Miss Alexandra Caroline Gray of Seattle, Four." A photo of a brunette with porcelain skin popped up. She looked gorgeous. Jackson beamed.

"Miss Cristina Yang of Beverly Hills, Three." A Korean girl with black curls appeared. She looked serious, sharp. Focused. Jackson whispered something to the Queen.

"Miss Stephenie Edwards of Memphis, Four." A dark-skinned girl with curly hair.

"Miss Amelia Shepherd of Los Angeles, Four." A brunette with blue eyes.

"Miss Reed Adamson of Mercy West, Two." A tiny redhead with short hair.

"Miss Calliope Iphigenia Torres of Weston, Three." A brunette again. Maybe my age, but she seemed more confident.

I turned to Alice, chuckling. "What kind of name is-"

"Miss April Kepner of Moline, Five."

My head snapped towards the screen out of reflex to hearing my name. A long moment passed before I realized that there was my picture there too. Onscreen a large grin brightened my face, happiness flaring in my eyes from hearing the news that Matthew was planning to marry me. Happiness that some idiot mistook for excitement and longing for Prince Jackson.

Mom screamed in my ear. Alice jumped up abruptly, forgetting all about the bowl on her lap and thus shooting hundreds of popcorn pieces everywhere. Dad dropped his mouth, staring wide-eyed at the screen. I didn't catch Jackson's reaction.

The phone rang.

And it didn't stop for days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been amazing. Thank you so much for your support.


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